


Skating on Thin Ice

by JennieBlackheart



Category: British Singers RPF, Buzzcocks, Pete Shelley - Fandom, Punk Rock RPF, Steve Diggle - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Arguing, Bisexual Male Character, Confessions, Drugs, First Kiss, First Time, Gay Sex, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Near Death Experiences, Pete's fantasy about Steve, Punk, Punk Rock, Recreational Drug Use, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 00:19:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17011917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennieBlackheart/pseuds/JennieBlackheart
Summary: Steve tells Pete that the weatherman has said that it has been cold long enough that it was good ice skating weather. Pete gets his skates, though he is not a good skater, and they go to a pond that Steve is familiar with. Sadly, Steve has made up what the weatherman said, and Pete ends up falling through the ice. Steve is able to save him and get him back home, running a hot bath to warm Pete up. They end up kissing and having sex in the bath, but it ends up all wrong, and Pete asks Steve to leave. To numb his feelings, Pete turns to drugs. He falls asleep against the tub in a narcotic bliss for awhile, when the phone rings. Pete calls him out on his 'queerness' and Steve admits he does like men and women but that he hasn't the courage to be 'out' like Pete. Pete then talks Howard into getting him some cigarettes as he is out. Reluctantly, he agrees, and things progress from there!





	1. What Do I Get?

"The weatherman says it's been cold long enough that it is safe go out and ice skate now." Steve assured Pete. He had his skates and warm clothes, and was now waiting on Pete to dig through his closet to find his skates.

"Ah, fuck!" Pete swore. "Think I found them, or at least something very sharp!" He moved his hand around and found the laces, then grabbed those. Bringing his skates out, they now had drops of blood on them.

Steve made a face and grabbed some tissue for Pete to press against the wound. "You are supposed to keep those in their box like I do. Then you wouldn't have a problem." Pete felt like he was being lectured and rolled his eyes.

"You know you sound like my mother sometimes, Steve, and that is a real drag." He removed the tissue and saw that the wound had formed a scab. Pete threw the tissue away, and then grabbed his skates.

"Just where are we skating, anyway, you know I'm not the greatest at it, and I don't want to deal with anyone laughing at me." Pete had only gotten his skates last year as a Christmas gift from Steve. He remembered how bruised up he got from falling, but because he was with friends, he still had a good time.

"There is a small pond out by one of my Dad's friends, he said we could use it for skating in winter and swimming in summer so long as we don't leave a mess." Steve stated.

"Sounds nice, glad you have a car!" Pete didn't like traveling in the snow, but Steve was a good driver, and he trusted him to get them there safe.

"Lets go then!" Steve, along with Pete walked out to the living room where their coats were draped over the sofa. Their hats and gloves on top. Once they got them on, they went outside into the chilly afternoon air.

Pete grit his teeth and mumbled 'buttered rum' under his breath over and over.

"What are you going on about?" Steve asked as he unlocked the doors.

"'Buttered rum', that's what I'm having when we get back. Maybe just even rum, if I cant wait." Pete replied.

"We've barely been outside, c'mon, we'll have fun." Steve promised as he put the car in gear. He drove slowly and with meticulous control to a wooded area with a barn. The place had no animals, making it look deserted.

"You sure this is the place?" Pete asked.

"Yeah, been coming here since I was a kid, know it by the back of my hand!" Now get your skates and let's go have a good time." Steve was doing his best to be patient with Pete, he just wished the man had more faith.

Pete got out and walked to the edge of the pond where there was a a flat boulder and sat down to put on his skates. Pete put his foot in one of them and laced it tightly. Then did the same with the other foot. Steve was doing the same, only sitting on a log. Pete waited until he was done, so they could both step on the ice together.

Steve looked over at Pete and asked, "Are you ready?" with a smile. He was very fond of this time of year, and wished Pete enjoyed it more.

Pete got up, and was a bit wobbly, but gave a nod. Steve walked over and took Pete's hand and told his friend they were going to take baby steps onto the ice.

"We can do this and we are going to have fun, I swear on my grandmum's grave." said Steve.

"Uh, Steve, your grandmum is still living, isn't she?" Pete raised an eyebrow while Steve looked at Pete sheepishly. 

"Doesn't matter, the point is, we are going to have a good time." They both began to take small steps to the edge of the lake, and then Steve got on the ice. Give me your other hand, Pete, I can skate backwards, and you can hold my hands and I can help you balance."

Pete did just that, and began to glide as Steve moved them. "I'm actually doing this!" Pete shouted gleefully. "I never thought I could learn."

"All right, now that we've picked up some speed, I'm going to let you go, okay?" Steve told Pete.

"Okay, I suppose the worse that could happen is I go across the ice, and into a bank of snow." Pete shrugged.

"Now you are thinking more positive, what a surprise." Steve smirked, and then let go! Pete held out his arms and moved to the middle of the pond and slowed down. He wasn't sure how to start again, but at least he was still upright. Steve was skating around like a pro and Pete watched.

Suddenly, Pete heard a cracking sound, and looked down. Beneath his skates there was a large crack that quickly getting larger! Pete shouted at Steve, and Steve told him not to move. The crack only worsened until eventually Pete shouted, "Oh shit!" as he broke through with a splash. 

"Pete?" Steve shouted, skating over, but not so close as to be near the cracks. 

Pete's head came up and he gasped for breath, his whole body freezing so intensely it actually felt as if it were burning! A look of fear was in his eyes, and Steve knew he had to act quickly.

"Stay there." Steve shouted, then realized there was no where else for Pete to go. Meanwhile Pete was sputtering and trying to keep his head above water. 

Steve, went to the banks and found a dead tree. He pulled a long branch off, and ended up caked in snow. Steve brushed himself off and took the long branch with him so he could save his friend. When, he got to the ice, however, it was silent!

"Oh God, Pete, no! No!" Steve shouted in a panic. He went to the edge on another side where it was more solid, and stuck his face in. He could see Pete, and his eyes were no longer open! Adrenaline ran through Steve's veins and he reached and grabbed his friend and got his head out of the icy water, he then pulled with all of his might Pete's body so that he was out of the icy water entirely.

"Oh Pete, this is all my fault, I lied about what the weatherman said, because I wanted to skate so badly with you, and now..." He began CPR hoping it would work. It took a few tries, and soon Pete was coughing up water. Pete smiled and said, "Is this what I have to do for you to kiss me?" 

"You're alive!" Steve shouted, and in turn gave him a real kiss. "I was afraid I'd lost you." Pete nodded and whispered that he was freezing. Steve took off his coat, and wrapped it around his friend and helped him up. Pete was stiff, freezing, and in pain, but slowly they made it to the car.

Steve blasted the heat, and took his friend back to his place to run him a hot bath so that hopefully he wouldn't get frostbite anywhere. 

Once there, Steve helped Pete inside, and struggled to get his wet clothes off. "I'm going to put you under the blankets on your bed while I make you a warm bath, okay?" Pete could only nod, stiffly.

Pete felt a bit better under his blankets, and he could think more clearly. He made a promise to himself that he would never go ice skating again and that no one could convince him that winter was a wonderful time of year. 

Steve drew a warm bath for Pete, guilt eating at him. The ice wasn't thick enough and if anyone should have fallen through it, it should have been him. With a sigh, he turned off the water and went to the bedroom to get Pete.

Pete rolled over and looked up and Steve and asked for his hand. Together they walked into the bathroom and Pete got in the warm water and slid so his knees were up, but the water was up to his neck.

"Thank you for saving my life, Steve. I thought for sure that would be the end of the band." He flashed one of his smiles and asked, "I know for CPR one has to put their mouth upon the other, but you then kissed me, a real kiss...why?"

"I was so happy you were alive and it just seemed appropriate. I won't lie though, it was nice." Steve confessed.

"It was, kissing boys and kissing girls is not that different, both of them are wonderful, and I will be around to kiss more." Pete explained.

"If I asked you to kiss me again, Steve, would you be opposed to that?" Pete smiled again, but he didn't think Steve would say 'yes.'

"Well, how about I start by getting in the tub with you, you know, to help warm you up..." Pete wasn't expecting Steve to get naked with him, but he really liked the sound of that.

"Yes, of course, to warm me up." Pete repeated. Steve was shedding his clothes on the bathroom floor, and then got in so he was facing Pete.

"If it were up to me, we would have just had a bath together instead of going out in that cold winter's air." Pete shifted so there was room for both of them, though their feet could touch each other's backsides.

"Yes, well, we are here now, and soon I will make you buttered rum like you wanted before we left." Steve offered. 

"Buttered rum sounds nice, but another kiss from you, that sounds even better." Pete wasn't playing he really wanted that kiss.

Without a word, Steve got on his knees and grabbed the side of the tub and kissed Pete again. Pete reached up to run his hands in his friend's hair, and turned his head so the kiss became more passionate. Steve seemed to enjoy it as they kissed more and more, and Pete was finally happy to taste his friends lips for real.

Eventually, they broke the kiss, but their eyes locked. "You know I've always wanted this, Steve, wanted you. I also know you haven't been with another man, so.."

"Once." Steve admitted. "Once, I have."

"Oh, well, then...you know how it goes, right?" asked Pete.

"I do, so please, get on your knees, and face away while I lubricate you and I with some soap." Pete bit his lip and turned around. Something good was coming of this day after all.

Steve grabbed the soap and lathered it up. He placed a finger in Pete, and moved it in and out. He then crooked it before adding a second one. Pete was already moaning, his wet cock rock hard as one of his fantasies continued to come true.

Steve added a third finger, and Pete begged for Steve's cock. "I'm ready, I need to feel you!" In reality he was afraid Steve would change his mind. 

Steve lathered himself up, and slipped his cock into Pete's hot little pucker with a gasp. He wrapped his arms around Pete loosely, and began to thrust. Their flesh made a slapping sound due to them both being wet, and somehow that added to the mounting desire. 

Pete stroked himself, and Steve kissed the back of his friend's neck. Steve's lips drove Pete wild and he began to stroke harder. Steve, moved quick, the sensation of being inside his friend driving him wild. 

Finally, a shiver ran down Pete's back, and he yelled, "Oh, oh, oh Goood!" spurting hot come over the edge of the tub. When Steve heard Pete, he too came with a low grunt, filling Pete with his hot seed.

Steve quickly pulled out, his spent come following. Pete turned around and kissed Steve simply on the lips. "It was just as I fantasized." whispered Pete. Steve blushed and told Pete, "The other guys, I don't think they should know about this." Pete was quiet for a moment, trying to think of what to say.

"Any particular reason?" Pete finally asked.

"Well, it's just that, you are the queer, and me, I like chicks...just chicks." Steve emphasized.

"You just kissed me and fucked me, Steve, and I'm certainly not a chick!" He didn't like the way Steve said 'queer,' as if it were a bad thing.

"Yes, well..." Was all Steve could say.

"Sounds like you enjoyed it as well, am I wrong?" Pete's temper was flaring, he felt hurt by his friend. "Maybe, you should just get dressed and go. I can make my own buttered rum!"

Steve nodded and got out of the tub, grabbed a towel to dry off with and picked up his clothes to dress in the other room. Pete also got out after pulling the plug, grabbing his own towel. He grabbed his dressing gown, then went to his room to find a pair of underwear and socks. Steve had apparently already left...No wait....there was the slam of the front door.

"Damn." Steve muttered. 

"That was not part of the fantasy..."


	2. I Need...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pete begins drinking whiskey while wrapped up in a blanket on the couch, as he still has a chill. His mind keeps racing, full of thoughts about everything that transpired that day. Pete feels the alcohol is not working fast enough, so he goes to the bathroom and shoots up heroin while sitting on the bathroom floor, propped up against the tub. Later, Steve calls to apologize, and a conversation is had. Pete talks Steve into picking him up a pack of cigarettes and coming back over.

Pete walked out into the kitchen and grabbed a near full bottle of whiskey, opened it, and took a swig. It burned on the way down, but he knew once he had gotten enough in him, he wouldn't feel that or anything else and that is exactly what he wanted. 

He went to the radio, and turned it on, so the house wouldn't seem so empty. Pete then wrapped a blanket around himself, as his body still had a chill, as well as his heart, after what transpired between he and Steve.

"Ever fall in love with someone you should't've fallen in love with..." came on the radio, and Pete drank more and more as the song played. He'd actually written it about Steve, but could never tell him, and now he never would. Pete was glad when the song ended, even though they needed the air play. He found it ironic that the song that was the most personal, and painful, was the most popular of theirs so far. Pete wondered what that meant about all the other human relationships.

'Humans, why did they even care about gender unless they wanted to conceive, and even then.' He thought. 'Steve had enjoyed himself, and admitting to him that he'd been with another man before, then saying that Pete was the 'queer one.' All of these thoughts ran 'round in Pete's head, though he was doing his best to numb his brain.

Pete put the half empty bottle of whiskey down, and tottered into the bedroom and went through his jacket. He pulled out a small packed of white powder he had scored after the band's last show. 'China white' his favorite, and worth the price. 'If this doesn't work, nothing will.' Pete thought. 

He went into the bathroom and got out the spoon, candle, matches, citric acid, and syringe. Pete had acquired some surgical tubing, to use as a tourniquet. He set the short candle on the back of the toilet until it was secure. Pete then got some of the heroin into the spoon, and then the citric acid. He mixed it with a bit of water, and then held the spoon over the flames. He'd gotten good at figuring just how long to do this, and when it was time he tied up his upper arm, and prepared the disposable syringe. Flicking a blue vein that was slowing popping up, helped, and he stuck the needle in his vein, and pushed the plunger. Some blood went up into the needle, but it didn't matter. Sitting on the bathroom floor he pulled the syringe out, and undid the tubing.

Pete leaned back against the tub, and took in a deep breath. "Yes.." he mouthed. This is what Pete felt he needed, no more thoughts of the day or what had happened with Steven, just bliss. Eyes half lidded, and his pulse slowing, he just relaxed, and faded into a peaceful light sleep. He knew he could always depend on heroin to help, when the booze wasn't working fast enough. When combined, even better.

Around 11 PM, Pete woke, his mouth open and so dry with cottonmouth, he could scarce swallow. He moved his head slowly to find that his neck was stiff from falling asleep in an awkward position. Slowly, Pete got up, and threw the syringe in the trash, and put the tubing on the counter. He saw his reflection in the mirror above the sink and it was a dreadful sight. Thinking that splashing water on his face might help, he turned on the taps. It didn't but he was able to cup some water to his mouth with his hands. Finding a towel, he wiped his faced, then staggered into the kitchen.

Pete got himself a glass of water and drank it down. He wasn't hungry, which was fine as there wasn't much food in the house. Pete was still feeling pretty good when the phone rang. Looking at his watch, Pete saw how late it was, and wondered who it could be. He picked up the phone and heard Steve's voice, and uttered, "Oh, it's you...what do you want from a queer like me?" Pete's voice was filled with acrimony as he spoke. He didn't want his high interrupted, especially by the man he wanted to forget.

"I understand you are upset, I shouldn't have said what I said or the way that I said it." apologized Steve. 

"Continue." This apology had actually surprised Pete, and he wanted to hear if he had anything else to say.

"Er, well, I admit, I did have a good time in the bath, and that once again, I am sorry about the incident on the ice." Steve was struggling which made Pete smile.

"You're just as queer as I am, admit it! You like men and women, maybe women more, but come on!" Somehow saying this wasm t as gratifying as he'd thought it would be in his head, but at least he'd had the chance to say it.

"Pete, I think you are right, but I don't have the courage to be 'out' like you. I know that sounds pathetic, but it is true." Steve confessed.

"Fine, fine. It's you who are going to be miserable not being true to yourself, not to mention that's not a very 'punk' attitude." Pete was going to make Steve feel as bad about this as possible, he was still intoxicated and doped up, and didn't much care about Steve's feelings at the moment.

"Oh, that's just shitty!" Steve replied, his voice raised. "Are you bloody fucked up?"

"Yup." Pete answered with a laugh. "Out of cigarettes, too, fuck!" He noticed, looking on the counter.

"Steve, go get me a pack of fags, you owe me!" Pete was in no condition to go out, and he was itching not only from the heroin, but because he needed a cigarette.

"It's late." Balked Steve, now wishing he hadn't called.

"I only wanted to see how you were doing and apologize, not go out." He added.

"Well now you know, and I can tell you that I would feel better if I had a fucking pack of fags!" Pete swore.

With a large sigh, Steve agreed that he would go out and buy his friend some cigarettes.

"Just come in, the door will be unlocked. I'm still a bit cold and want to stay wrapped in a blanket." Answered Pete.

"Right, see you soon." That was the end of the conversation, and just as Pete said, he wrapped himself up in a blanket and lay on the couch waiting for Steve to show up.


	3. I Don't Mind, If You Don't Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve brings cigarettes over to Pete, and Steve has one. Pete makes a confession that he swore he never would, and asks Steve if he will spend the night with him since it is so late. Steve agrees, and after they both smoke, they get into bed together and fall asleep. A few hours later, Pete as a vivid nightmare about drowning, and Steve does his best to calm his friend down. They both end up in an embrace, which leads to more and Pete hoping that maybe Steve would want to do this secretly again.

Steve knew that all the shops were closed, but had purchased a carton of cigarettes a few days ago, and just grabbed two packs from that. It wasn't Pete's brand, but he doubted his friend would make a fuss. If he did, well, 'them's the breaks, ' he thought.

He then threw his winter coat on, grabbed his keys, and got into his car, cigarettes in his pockets. Steve had to wait for the car to warm up before he could go, but when it did, he drove slowly in the eerie lamplit night. All the sensible people were home and it bed, so he had the whole road to himself. 

Steve pulled up to Pete's place and parked. He got out and walked up to his door, and turned the knob. Sure enough, it was unlocked, and he opened it and walked in. Steve looked around, and heard the static from the radio, as whatever program was on, had gone off the air, and Pete hadn't bothered to turn it off.

Once in the living room, he saw Pete in a semi induced comatose state, or at least he seemed that way. His eyes moved under his lids, however, and he coughed. Clearing his throat, he sat up, his brown hair, a shaggy mess. 

"You got what I want?" Pete asked, not even greeting Steve with a 'hello.'

"Yeah, two packs." Steve pulled them out of his pockets and placed them on the coffee table. Pete grabbed one, tapped it, then opened it. His hands shook as he put one between his lips. Unfortunately, he had no lighter, and asked Steve if he would do the honor.

"Sure, Pete." He hated seeing his friend this way, but he didn't feel he could say anything about the other's habits. Everyone had one or more, and it just wasn't brought up.

Pete inhaled deeply, and let the smoke out through his chapped lips. "Perfect." he muttered. Steve was turning to leave, when Pete began to protest.

"Steve, please stay, it's cold and dark, and...and I need to tell you something, something I swore only this evening I would never tell you, as well as when it happened." He looked at the carpet, as if there was something interesting there, but there wasn't. Fact was he just couldn't look Steven in the eyes at that moment. He had to finish his cigarette and gather his courage.

Steve nodded, after all, he couldn't think of a reason not to, and Pete was his friend. Pete looked like he needed one now more than ever before in his state, anyway.

Pete finished smoking, and mashed the butt out in a glass ashtray that sat on the coffee table before him. 

Clasping his hands, he focused on Steve, and licked his lips. Earlier this evening I was laying on the couch drinking, and the song, "Ever Fall In Love...." came on. I began to drink more and more, but the memory of when I wrote it in that hotel room wouldn't vacate my mind. That's when I turned to the heroin." Pete's voice quieted at the mention of the IV drug.

"I don't understand, Pete, that's the best song we have as a band and the best song you've ever written, why should that upset you?" He asked, curiously.

Pete locked eyes with Steve, and the word, "Because..." dropped from his mouth. "Because I wasn't entirely truthful about how that song came to be. You know that I was watching "Guys and Dolls and that the famous line about falling love with someone you shouldn't have fallen in love with, sparked the idea."

"Right...go on..." Steve wasn't sure if he wanted to know what Pete was going to say next, not knowing would be worse,however.

Pete took a deep breath, and reached for the open back of cigarettes. "I wrote that song thinking about you, Steve. I told you it was about Francis, but it wasn't. I wrote that song about...us." His hands were shaking even more after the confession he had made, which made putting the cigarette in his mouth more difficult. When he did, Steve lit it without waiting for Pete to ask.

"I had no idea..." Steve confessed. 

"None at all?" Pete answered back, his voice quivering.

"All right, a slight idea. I saw the way you looked at me in rehearsal when singing it sometimes. I just ignored it, because..." Steve's words tapered off.

"Because you like chicks, and couldn't entertain any other kind of love?" Pete finished Steve's sentence with what he believed to be true.

Steve sighed. "You know the truth, and believe it or not, I am a bit relieved that I can talk to you about this. I thank you for that."

This was not the reaction that Pete thought he would get, he figured Steve would have just gotten up and left and never spoken another word about the song and his confession.

"Steve, will you stay the night with me.....in my bed? I know I look a wreck, and maybe that is a lot to ask, but I am asking you anyway."

The room fell silent, except for the sound of the static from the radio. Finally, Steve nodded, and told Pete, "Yes, but only if I can have one of those cigarettes."

Pete gave a small laugh, and nodded. Steve got up and sat next to Pete, and took a cigarette out of the pack and lit it.

They didn't talk about what had transpired that day, or even about what would happen tomorrow. Both just sat and enjoyed each other's company, and the cigarettes between their lips.

After smoking, each put the butt in the ash tray, and Pete flashed his brown eyes at Steve, and blinked several times. "Steve, will you put me to bed, and then hold onto me?" he asked, softly. It's late, and I can only guess that you are tired as well?"

"I am, having all of that adrenaline run through me when I got out out of the water, has worn me out more than I thought it would." Steve admitted. Pete stood up, and walked over, then took his friend's hand and led him slowly into the bedroom.

"I haven't any pajamas, I usually sleep in my y fronts or in the nude. I don't mind which you sleep in, or don't sleep in." He pulled back the covers, and took off his dressing gown, and lay it over a nearby chair. Pete then slid off his underwear and got into bed. Steve took off his clothes, just has he had done earlier, underwear as well. Catching a glimpse, Pete smiled, pleased that he would have Steve's naked body against him.

Steve got in bed, and just as he said he would, he curled up to Pete, putting his cock against his bottom cheeks and arms around his waist. Pete reached for the covers, and then the lamp to turn off. Pete could not have asked for much more than this and he whispered, "Goodnight." to his friend, who whispered, "Goodnight." back.

As the two slept, Pete began to have a nightmare about drowning. It was quite realistic, and he began thrashing about as if trying to save himself. Steve awoke with a start from his slumber and put a hand on Pete's shoulder and called his name.

"Pete, Pete, wake up!" Steve shouted, shaking his friend. Pete's eyes fluttered open, and he took in a deep breath. He turned and looked at Steve like a frightened child, and then thew his arms around his neck. "Steve, I was drowning, oh, it was so real just like when I fell through the ice!" His voice was shaky, and tears began to well in his eyes, it had not really hit him earlier, but he had almost died and his best friend had saved him.

"It was a bad dream, nothing but a bad dream, you are here, arms around me nice and safe." Steve assured him. He kissed his friend's forehead and tried to calm him. He didn't know if he was shaking more from the drugs or with fear, but either way, he wrapped his arms around Pete and held him close. 

"You sa-aved me!" Pete cried.

"Shh... Let's not think anymore about it, all right?" Steve's voice was warm and soothing and this time he lightly kissed Pete's lips. Pete hungrily kissed the other back, burning for his affection. 

"I need you, Steve, if only for tonight. It can be our secret, I don't mind, but with our arms wrapped around each other like this, and your tender kisses, I need you to care." 

Steve nodded, and kissed Pete slowly, his head tilted, and each other's warm breath flowed between the two. Pete slipped in his tongue, and Steve gave in to the intimacy of this kiss. Both devoured each other's lips, until Steve broke the kiss and broke from their embrace so that he could kiss Pete's neck, throat, collar bones, and down his chest. When he reached Pete's nipples, the man arched, and let out a loud gasp!

"Oh God, Steve, your lips...!" Pete cried, unable to finish his sentence. He thrust his hips up, touching his hard prick against his friend's, glad to know that this was a turn on for him,as well.

Steve got on his knees in front of Pete, and ran his hands up and down, while Pete squirmed with desire. "Fuck me!" he finally whispered, the tension too much.

Steve saw lotion on the night stand, and squirted some in his hand. He put some on a finger, and inserted it. Pete brought his legs up, and bucked his hips involuntarily. "More!" Pete whined, he wanted Steve inside of him!

"I've barely stretched you, Pete. 

"Yeah, but we fucked earlier, and I need you to fuck me now!" Pete's voice was filled with urgency, so Steve stroked lotion on his cock and pushed himself inside of Pete. Pete gripped the bed, and called out Steve's name.

Steve slowly began to thrust inside Pete until he was all the way in. "Oh, Steve...Steve, fuck me!" Pete begged. He ran his hands over his chest, then reached to pull him down, so he could hold his friend.

Steve moved in and and out as swiftly as possible, and both men just breathed, sighed, and whispered the occasional expletive. 

Sweat began to form on both men's bodies, making them more slick, the heat between their legs, however was far hotter and both were on the verge of an orgasm.

Steve moved slow and deep, and Pete, lost control, coming all over his chest bringing him to a height of bliss that even heroin could not bring him too. Shortly thereafter, Steve thrust a few times and came hard inside of Pete, with a groan. Pete, touched Steve's cheek, and whispered, "Thank you." but what he really meant was, "I love you." He knew he'd never get it, but this was close. After all maybe Steve would be willing to do this on a consistent basis, in secret. He didn't mind, if Steve didn't mind."


End file.
